Romance in ThreeFourths Time
by cryptically
Summary: [MFOMT] My first HM fic ever! Claire moves into Mineral Town, seeking a new life, only to find that she has her work cut out for her as settles in. Set to musical themes, with eventual DoctorClaire and GrayClaire.
1. Three Solos into a False Fugue

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**Chapter I : Three Solos into a False Fugue**

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_Solo _the_ First: __The _**Immortal**.

It was just one more ordinary day at the Mineral Town clinic. A new shipment of medicinal herbs had arrived from the city, from the mountains and from wherever else the herbs came from, which he and Elli would spend the entire day going through and sorting.

Business at the clinic was typically slow at this time, a little after lunch before the town residents started coming in with upset stomachs and too early for exhaustion cases. It was, in essence, the closest thing he had to a lunch break.

He didn't take breaks, but this unofficial pause made for ideal sorting, so the Doctor got down to work without an reservations or expectations for this day to differ from any other day. Things tended to stay mostly the same in Mineral Town: sure, the seasons changed, crops grew and failed, people got married, had children, the ownership of stores changed--but there would always be a grocer's, there would always be families and harvests, and there would undoubtedly be the perpetual need for a doctor.

He might have sighed about that a long time ago, but that would have been when he was younger and more prone to seeking adventure and excitement, like so many of the new farmers that passed through. Now, though, he had learnt that he was as much a part of the town as the square or the farms. Something that would forever stay the same: always the doctor, just the doctor.

He had long suspected that this would not change, and had sufficiently quashed his feelings of wanderlust and any notion of spending his life with another person. Even Elli, he felt, though she was a competent nurse, hadn't-- at least to his knowledge-- reached that bitter epiphany for herself yet. He hoped she never would.

It would be better, he reasoned, if she found someone that could make her happy. As far as he was concerned, he would work alone.

That didn't bother him much. It wasn't a grim realization, only a practical one, and he chose to think of it that way. There was work to be done as doctor, and he would see to it that it got done--nothing more, nothing less.

Just as he was beginning to tear upon the shipment box, he heard a scrambling outside his window, and peering out, saw a cluster of women talking excitedly in the square. They seemed to be pointing down the long road heading south toward the abandoned farm and chattering at a feverish pitch.

The doctor stared out down the lane, and for a moment thought his ears caught the distinct clash of metal striking against fleshy and a concurrent yelp of pain.

For a moment, he worried, but then shook it off. Must be the blacksmith's boy clobbering his hand again. Honestly, if it wasn't the third time this week…

Strolling along to the supply cabinet, he sought out an ice bag and a roll of bandages. He had a feeling someone would be paying him a visit soon.

Although, he mused, stealing another glance out the window and not quite wanting to believe that the change was possible, perhaps the truck had brought something more from the city after all.

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_Solo __the _Second: _T_he **Rogue**.

"You idiot boy! I've had it up to here explaining to you the correct procedure for extracting pure copper from its ore! If you'd just left the mixture simmering--"

And there he went off on one of his famous rants again.

Gray had practiced tuning out his grandfather at times like these: he knew that he should have left the copper liquid on the fire for a while longer, but the noise had made him turn, and, in the process, shift the pot he'd been holding out of the direct heat. Now, the copper had congealed into a gloopy, half-tainted mess that was sure to stick to the bottom of the container and give him hell to clean out.

He was still facing the door of the smithy, trying to discern the cause of the sound when his grandfather broke in upon his thoughts.

"You don't listen to a thing I tell you! Goes right in one ear and out the next! I don't even know why I took you on as an apprentice. All you've done is waste my time without learning anything. I knew a boy from the city was trouble from the start--"

It always came back to this. Alright, so he'd lived in a city all his life and hadn't been used to the ins and outs of farming, was that a problem? Wasn't that something you'd expect of a city boy?

He'd been happy--no, excited-- to answer his grandfather's invitation and move to the country. His reason for coming was to help, not to make the old man's life a living misery. Couldn't his grandfather see that? The old man shouldn't have asked for him in the first place if he planned on cursing him at every corner.

Gray was doing the best he could, honestly. The work was hard and the days were long, cooped up in the blacksmith's, but he wasn't shirking from any responsibility that he knew of. He just wished it could be enough, for once.

Initially, he'd gone out and met the townspeople, who seemed as nice and welcoming as he could have hoped. However, gradually, after more and more evenings coming back to the inn tired, covered with soot and the last biting insults on that day's performance, he stopped making the effort. It was too exhausting, and Gray was beginning to get the feeling that maybe a farm town wasn't the best place to be after all. Even in a city, where everyone's anonymous, he'd never felt so isolated as he had felt here.

Still, he couldn't help but reach out on occasion.

He'd started going to the library to read up on different ores, aspiring to impress his grandfather one day. Truth was, he admired the old man. The reason, in fact, for his being yelled at was that when he'd heard the sound and turned, he'd been concerned that his grandfather had hurt himself with one of the tools.

Looking back on it, he doubted it was possible for as great a blacksmith as Saibara to even consider injuring himself (Gray's thumbs and right pointer finger still throbbed dully from previous incidents that week), so Gray, despite the best of intentions, had been wrong.

Again.

Maybe he would have been better off in the city. At least there he could be right on occasion, or at the very least, if he was wrong, he'd be wrong where everyone else was too busy to notice.

But it would be nice to have somewhere that felt like home again.

And as he let the rest of Saibara's lecture wash over him and shifted the pot back into the flame, curiosity overwhelmed him and he wondered what that peculiar sound had actually been.

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_Solo t_he T_hird_: _Th_e **Displaced**.

The strange noise heard all across Mineral Town, it turned out, had been caused by a large, metal tool escaping the grip of its owner's hand and whacking someone hard on the head.

"Well, it's your own fault for believing that phony real estate ad! There comes a time when you need to ask yourself questions about business deals and you missed your opportunity for it. You should have investigated the property and the contract more before being so quick to buy."

Mayor Thomas straightened his hat at this point, which had gone slightly askew due to the repeated assaults with farm implements. "So, if you're quite finished now…"

Nothing more came. This was good, because he'd already been hit with a hammer, a hoe, a watering can, and an axe shaft. He had been starting to worry what else that girl had in her rucksack.

"Now you've seen the farm. The bus for the city leaves tomorrow morning with fresh produce. You can go home and we'll forget about this whole thing."

The girl he was talking to, blonde, dressed in pale blue overalls, bit her lip. Why was it that after being told by countless sources that country folk were kind and unassuming, did her first experience with one lead her to dismay, anger, and possible bankruptcy?

"I can't do that." Claire said. "I've sold everything to come here: my stuff, my apartment--I even quit my job at the coffee shop. There's no way I can go back now." She stared out at the broken, desolate field despairingly, looking at the what the last of her savings had bought her. "So, I guess this is what I get from not reading between the lines. Serves me right, huh?"

Major Thomas was instantly apologetic. "Don't fret, you'll find something…"

A thought hit him.

"Why yes, of course! Why don't you give it a shot anyway? It'll take some work--"

Claire cocked an eyebrow.

"--well, alright, maybe a lot of work, but you could do it, right? You wanted a farm, and it may not be the best, but it's a farm nonetheless. Just do your best and make something out of it. I'm sure you'll find a way."

Not noticing him leave and not caring enough at this point to wave goodbye, Claire let her gaze sweep out across the ragged terrain. It would take ages to get this farm going again. Whole families often had difficulty making ends meet living off the land. She'd have to make everything work all by herself, with no friends, no connections, and no promise for anything better if she failed miserably.

In short, she was alone.

After pulling a few weeds, Claire scooped up her new puppy--she really needed a name for him, didn't she?-- and entered her new house.

To be utterly frank, the place was a mess. The windows were fogged over and spider webs clung to the ceilings in all the really hard to reach places. There wasn't even a kitchen in here, or a sink…much less anything resembling a proper toilet.

If she was one to slip into despair, she would have locked herself in the farmhouse for the rest of the day. Claire, though, was not. She made do with what little cleaning supplies the previous inhabitant had left, and spent the rest of her first afternoon getting things into shape. By the time she left her farm for some refreshment at the inn, she'd made her bed up with fresh sheets, organized her tools, and found her puppy a nice place to sleep.

The streetlights greeted her as she made her way into town. Nothing had changed. She was still alone.

Claire gave the night a cocky grin. Sure, she was alone. She'd make her own fortune here in Mineral Town, just like the heroes did in all those fairy tales she read.

Granted, they didn't go off to farms to have adventures, but the basic purpose was the same. And, for the first time that night, she was starting to feel a bit less out of place.

A boy watched her as she entered the inn, and decided to wait until the excitement of welcoming the new villager had passed before heading in. He knew there wouldn't be much sleep tonight with all the celebration, so he stared out at the stars, wondering.

Across town, another man tossed and turned in his sleep, worried about something he couldn't quite place, but felt as though it might unravel everything.


	2. Fermata's Last Breath

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**Chapter II: Fermata's Last Breath**

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**a ****st**eady _cade_nce.

"You mean she did what?"

This was certainly an interruption to his day. Mayor Thomas had come in early in the morning, about an hour before the Doctor and Elli even opened up shop to complain of a massive headache. Upon closer inspection, the Mayor's injury had seemed to be caused by something metallic and weighty.

"With a hoe, a watering can, and an ax, yes. Maybe others but I really can't recall."

The Doctor gave him a look halfway between thoughtful concern and extreme consternation.

"Understandably."

He made a note to check Mayor Thomas for brain damage one more time before he released him from his professional care. In the mean time, he would need to make sure that an incident like this was handled properly.

"Have you told Harris about this?"

The mayor nodded. "Oh, yes. Harris knew from the start, when I came home with this huge bump on my head." He pointed to the affected area gingerly, as though touching it or even coming too close would cause a new onslaught of pain. "Being in favor of fair sales and honest advertising, though, he said that I deserved it and that I had it coming for trying to trick people for so long. Though, I don't see why he needed to be quite so incensed. It was just a simple town tradition, that was all."

The Doctor was getting worried. This was most unusual, on many levels. Typically, the people that came to try their hand at farming would stay for two days, then get so depressed at the prospects that (if they hadn't already moved out) they came to the Clinic, seeking advice and help. Often exhausted, sick, and miserable, they had no problem when the Doctor proscribed them a quick ride back to wherever they had originated from. This one, though...

Could the abandoned farm finally be finding an owner? Was this the end of an era?

"You are coming to the horse races this year, aren't you?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I suppose, if you desperately require my presence."

The riders were generally well experienced and adapted to changes in the course easily, and while those less practiced in keeping on the course (or their horse, for that matter) usually were carried to the Clinic. It wasn't that far from the race track and Rose Square, so the Doctor hadn't bothered coming to the races all that often, if at all. He found it easier to treat the injured, especially those with broken bones, in the confines of the Clinic. In fact, a lot of medical things were more easily done in the Clinic. That was why he spent most of his time there. Why was there a need to leave?

Smiling, Thomas replied, "Of course I do. I invited Claire and I think it would be a great opportunity--"

"Pardon, who? You've never invited a visitor before."

"Oh, come now. You know her name. We might as well give her a chance to settle in and let her have a fair shot at farm life. Besides, I felt differently about Claire compared to some of the previous tenants. Her circumstances are quite different, and I think that we as a community ought to each do our part to make her feel at home and encourage her in her task."

"This you say after she nearly gave you a concussion." He wasn't believing a word of it.

"Yes, well...these things do happen. It really was my fault, you know. I must admit that I deserved it."

The Doctor snorted skeptically and busied himself with polishing the metal reflector disk that he would wear for the bulk of the day in silence. Then, softly:

"She doesn't even have a horse. If she's just starting out farming, then she won't have any spare money to bet. There will be no purpose for her coming."

"Always so logical. Actually, I spoke to Barley about that. Turns out that he's got this foal..."

The Doctor shook his head; he would hear no more, he already knew what would be said. He waved off the rest of the mayor's comments and pretended to be busy with some paperwork, which was difficult to do with his desk being utterly free of paper. The mayor rattled on regardless.

"Her birthday's on the fourth, so I thought that would be the most appropriate time. What do you think?"

"I think your brain's been hopelessly addled."

"Is that a professional opinion or just your bitter personal feelings?"

The Doctor looked up, affronted. "I have always kept my opinions strictly professional."

Sighing, the mayor made his way to the door. "Yes, I suppose with you that's always been the case. All profession, all rationality, all the time. At least consider coming then, would you? I'd like to make a formal introduction of her to the town."

Not bothering to acknowledge this, the Doctor didn't even look up when he handed the departing man an reusable ice pack and a packet of herbal medicine. "That should take care of any lasting head aches and reduce the swelling. Contact me if your head bothers you or the bump doesn't go away after three days. You know to find me."

He hardly noticed the door slam shut on its squeaky hinges, except to remark absently to himself that he really needed to get someone in here--the blacksmith's boy perhaps?-- to fix it properly. The patients didn't need to be startled out of their minds thanks to a noisy and disruptive door.

The fact that he had no patients to be startled at present was by no means a factor in this.

Shortly before nine o'clock, he walked over to the door, undoing the latches with a sure and steady hand. His hand stopped being so sure and steady as soon as the last latch was undone, and the door fell in upon him, pressed ferociously inwards by some hostile, outside force. He barely had time to utter a yelp of surprise before he was tackled to the clean, tiled floor.

Reflector askew, the Doctor became acutely and immediately aware of a strange weight on his lap.

"Oh, hello!"

A blond girl in blue overalls gave him a weak smile, rubbing her head from her collision with the door.

"Sorry about that, I just needed to get back to the general store and pick up some more turnip seeds. Guess I got the wrong door, huh?"

The Doctor bit back a sarcastic remark about how it was be nigh on impossible to confuse the Clinic with the grocer's, but not without great effort. She was interrupting every aspect of his daily life anyway, so why couldn't he just accept that she was doomed to make his existence as abnormal as possible?

"Yes, I suppose you did." He caught a glimpse of a bruise forming on her upper arm. "Though it doesn't seem as though you came out of your duel with my door unscathed. Let me have a look at that."

She laughed nervously. "Nah, I've got to get planting. Start of the season and stuff, right?" She paused, eyes meeting his as she pondered what next to say. "Ah..."

Apparently, nothing came to mind.

"My name's Claire, by the way."

He nodded. "I'm the Doctor."

"Just the Doctor?"

Brow furrowed, he regarded the farm girl quizzically. What, had she expected him to be the furrier as well? Seeing this, she amended her question:

"I mean, no first name or anything? That's kind of odd, even in a farm town..."

His throat tightened. He hated to be baited like this.

"Naturally, I have a name. We're hardly so provincial here as to do away with them entirely, despite what they might tell you in the city. I merely dislike giving it out to someone who's likely to move on within a week's time. 'The Doctor' will suffice in your case."

There, he'd finally done it. He'd known it was bound to happen and it had. He'd taken his anger out on a villager. Well, at least this new girl--Clara, was that her name?--wouldn't be long in town anyway, so she didn't really count. Still, some part of him cringed at the infraction. He forced himself to ignore it.

Claire's first reaction was this was to be instantly offended, but then she decided on another plan. If this Doctor wanted to be aloof, then who was she to stand in his way? She was all for making friends, but she had a feeling that he was going to take a little longer to get to know than some of the others. Oh well. She'd show him that city girls could stick it out. A plan was starting to form in her mind already.

"Sorry to barge in on you like that. Look on the bright side: since I'm leaving so soon, you'll probably never have to worry about it happening again. See you!"

And with that last remark, she turned on her heel, leaving a slightly embarrassed Doctor in her wake.

"Anything wrong, Doctor?" came Elli's voice from a bookshelf as she reorganized the town's medical files for what must have been the fourth time that day. "I thought I heard a shout and some sort of commotion."

Getting up, the Doctor brushed the dirt that had settled on his normally pristine coat off and returned, "Nothing out of the ordinary."

He slid into his chair, running a hand absently through his hair, and stared off into the distance.

Oh, how he wished that were true.

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Reviews!

**StarrNight** :: Thanks! And no, I don't mind at all!

To everyone that reviewed, thanks very much! I really appreciate hearing how people feel about my stories. Hope you liked this chapter as well. The next one will focus on Gray!

--cy.


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